Page 62 of Kidnapping of a Myth

“It explains why we never found correspondence between them,” Bel said. “As the family driver, Peter was always around. No one would question the two chatting.”

“That’s our theory,” Barry agreed. “Because of Pann’s falsified documentation, we still don’t know who he is. There aren’t any legal records of him at the boy’s home, either. Seems he erased all traces of himself. Pann’s still a ghost, but he cared about Henry enough to murder for him.”

“Why the theatrics?” Bel asked. “Why the traps? If he wanted to kill the siblings, why didn’t he do it immediately before I got involved? In the end, his elaborate games led to his downfall.”

“That we can’t figure out,” Barry said. “And unfortunately, I don’t know if we ever will. His reasoning died with him because, according to Henry, he was supposed to kill the brothers shortly after their kidnapping. Henry had no clue about the traps, the IEDs, or the emails. They were all a shock to him, which is undoubtedly why we didn’t notice anything amiss about his behavior. Hard to appear suspicious when you’re genuinely terrified of the ground exploding.”

Bel and Eamon exchanged a silent glance, a private conversation passing between them as they remembered the pocket watch tattoo. Seemed the Pixie Dust had driven Peter Pann mad. It gave him both the inhuman ability and sadistic drive to turn the kidnapping into an elaborate death game, but in the end, it saved the Darlings’ lives. If not for the traps, the brothers would’ve been long dead by the time Eamon received Wendy’s call.

“You said Pann protected Henry at the boy’s home,” Eamon said, and Barry nodded, clearly ignoring the fact that Mr. Stone shouldn’t be taking part in this conversation. “Violently?”

“I believe so.”

“Violence is a drug,” Eamon said. “It starts small, but eventually it grows out of control if left unchecked. It becomes acraving, and what probably began as playground fights morphed into the need to drown children to achieve that same high.” His hold on Bel’s fingers tightened, and she understood that while his words spoke of Peter, his knowledge came from his own tortured past. “Pann was violent at the boy’s home, but I guarantee you if you look into the incidents, you’ll learn that many of them started as traps or games. I would also go so far as to guess that Henry had a hand in their construction. He may have been shocked by how deeply Pann had spiraled, but their years together laid the groundwork for these atrocities.”

“You think Henry planned some of their childhood violence?” Barry asked.

“I would bet money on it.”

“That might help our case,” Barry said. “Since Pann isn’t here to refute his claims, Henry is pinning everything on his old friend. He’s playing the victim, but a history of cruelty will help convince a jury. Maintaining Henry’s innocence is actually why Peter Pann allowed himself to be taken into custody. It was a distraction because if we arrested a suspect, there would be no need to continue the search. It would’ve worked too if not for his confession about Hook. He was supposed to remain silent until the money was firmly in Henry’s control and then escape, but he made a mistake. I don’t know what caused him to slip, but lucky for us, he did.”

Bel purposely didn’t look at Eamon, but she squeezed his hand. They hadn’t gotten lucky. They’d confronted Pann with a monster greater than himself.

“All this pain because of money.” Barry shook his head, and the atmosphere in the hospital room turned mournful. “And we missed their connection because years ago, the system failed those boys. Henry was always driven by greed, but I think Peter fixated on never growing up and existing in a never land because sadly, being with Henry in that children’s home was thelast time someone cared about him. It was the perfect plan on their part because they were acting on their friendship. Henry never hired Peter. The Tinker was operating under misguided affection, it seems, and that’s a bond stronger than any professional contract. If not for you two figuring out Hook was Pann’s childhood nickname for Henry, the Darlings would’ve undoubtedly died at sea. Peter had escaped our custody and was on that yacht. His involvement would have protected Henry from suspicion, allowing him to inherit everything without question. We’re all in your debt.”

“They should’ve never gone through it at all,” Bel said. “They’ll heal, but they’ll never be the same.”

“But they will heal,” Barry said. “And that’s because you didn’t give up on them. If you ever tire of working as a homicide detective, I have a job for you. I could use an officer like you.”

“Thanks, but I like it where I am.” Bel pulled Eamon’s hand closer until it rested on her stomach.

“I had to try.” Agent Barry stood up. “I’ll let you get some rest, but if there’s anything you need, and I mean anything, call me. I owe you.”

ONE MONTH LATER:

Bel pulledon a sweater as she jogged down the grand staircase of Eamon’s mansion, the scent of coffee and bacon thick and sweet in the air.

“I made breakfast,” Wendy said as she entered the kitchen. “Okay… Eamon cooked, but I am finally getting the hang of not burning the house down, so progress, right?” she giggled as she handed Bel a steaming mug. After Henry’s arrest, the Darling siblings weren’t emotionally prepared to handle the aggressive press or the repercussions of such a monstrous betrayal, so Eamon offered to host them until they felt strong enough to return home. They’d been living at the Reale Estate for the pastmonth, and Bel had temporarily moved into the half-restored mansion to ensure Wendy felt comfortable staying with a single man.

The Darlings had suffered during those first days following the attacks on the yacht, but as time and therapy healed their wounds, Wendy and the boys started to appreciate a life where people cared for them instead of their wealth. They all viewed Bel as an older sister, and Wendy had gotten it into her head that she wanted to try living normally… or as normal as a millionaire of her status could. Eamon was currently teaching her to cook, which was not an easy task, but he appreciated their guest’s interest. He also enjoyed having Bel and Cerberus live with him for the month, but Bel hated how much she loved it. She knew she had to move home after the siblings left. She and Eamon weren’t there in their relationship yet, but sleeping beside him every night had strengthened their bond in a way she would be forever grateful for.

“Not setting the kitchen on fire is a start.” Bel accepted the coffee and the plate of bacon and French toast. She also enjoyed Eamon cooking for her every morning before work. She hadn’t had this many home-cooked meals since high school.

“Will I ever get it?” Wendy asked. “I feel helpless and stupid…”

“Don’t put yourself down.” Bel set the food on the table and drew the younger woman into a hug. “Some people aren’t meant to be cooks, and that’s okay. But I have faith that you’ll be a pro in no time.”

“You think so?”

“Of course I do.”

“Promise me our friendship doesn’t end after I leave your house.”

“Eamon’s house,” Bel chuckled.

“Same thing.” Wendy swatted the air as they parted, dismissing the technicality as if Bel were the only one foolish enough not to acknowledge the obvious. “Anyway, swear you won’t forget me.”

“I couldn’t even if I tried.” Bel bit into the bacon and smiled as the salty breakfast hit her tongue. Eamon’s tastes were expensive, and Bel’s taste buds had become spoiled. “Thanksgiving is coming up, and my dad is hosting this year. My sisters will be there, and you and your brothers should come.”

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